Miracle and the Brooklyn Bridge
by SuperTeenNewsieAvengerGal
Summary: Spot Conlon has invited an eleven year old girl to join his Newsies. She needed it, since her parents could have hurt her. But Spot needed it too.  She reminds him of his sister.  Who died because he wasn't there to save her.
1. Miracle

**Disclaimer: I swear on Chuck Norris's life that I do not own Newsies. I only own Bekka, also known as Miracle later on. Maybe a few random Newsies too. **

**Note: I've only watched the movie about five time's total. Please correct me on something if I'm wrong. I AM THOROUGHLY INCAPABLE OF WRITING NEWSIE SLANG. JUST FYI.**

**Chapter One: Bekka's Perspective**

I ran.

That was the only thing I could do. My parents had been screaming at each other for the past month or so, and it was steadily getting worse. Once, my father had pushed me to the floor so hard that I couldn't get up without aching. Having one less mouth to feed might do them some good.

The streets were almost empty. I saw small groups of boys sleeping on the sides of the streets, in alleyways, and other places in my view. They sold the newspapers around here. One of them had a small piece of bread in his hand. I slowly walked towards him.

The bread smelt remarkable. I hadn't eaten for the last few days because of the money we didn't have as a family. I felt my stomach rumble, and reached for it carefully. I successfully pulled it from his hands, and began to walk away. Before I could get a single bite into my mouth, I felt a hand on my shoulder, whipping me around. The boy from whom I had stolen the bread punched me square in the jaw. I dropped the bread, and ran, blood slowly beginning to pour into my mouth. Once I had run at least four blocks, I stopped, and spit the blood into one of the gutters on the street.

I looked ahead of me. I was close to the beginning of the Brooklyn Bridge. That was where I had planned to go. I turned around one last time.

Manhattan was no longer my home.

I ran across the bridge quickly, my small body sprinting without even breaking a sweat. My blonde hair was tangled beyond measure, and my skin was dirty from not washing for the last couple of days. I came to a dock at the end of the bridge. It held a number of empty crates, ropes, and other random objects. The dock looked abandoned, so I sat down, leaning against a large crate.

For the first time this whole night, I cried. No one would want to help me, as far as I was concerned. At the age of eleven, I was too old to be adorable or cute, and too fragile to work. No one would feed me, seeing as food was expensive. I pulled my knees to my chest, curling up into a ball.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps. I looked up. A boy, maybe sixteen years old, was approaching me. I scooted backwards, afraid that I was in his spot. He chuckled and knelt beside me.

"Who do we have here?" he asked me.

"I…I…I'm Bekka." I said.

"Bekka, eh? Well, I'm Spot. Spot Conlon." He said, introducing himself. He held out his hand, and I shook it.

"Do you have a place to stay?" he asked me. I shook my head in response. "Well, I guess you'll have to stay with us." He replied.

"Us?"

"Me and my Newsies. You see, here in Brooklyn, I'm the head Newsie. We all stay in a boarding house, and work together to sell our papers as best we can." He said, beginning to stand up. I stood up as well. I only came up to his waist. He grabbed my hand, and we began to walk away from the bridge. We walked in silence, until we reached the door of the boarding house. It was painted white, with a worn out sign hanging above the doorway.

"Before we go inside, you have to come up with your Newsie name." Spot informed me. I thought about it for a second, and then gave up.

"You can choose." I stated. Spot smiled.

"I think Miracle is a lovely name for a little lady like you." He said after some thought. I nodded, and we entered the boarding house.

Inside, there was a long hallway. There were doors throughout the hallway, filled with beds and boys. Some were awake, playing cards, or talking, but most were asleep. We walked to the end of the hallway, where a door was slightly opened. Spot knocked, and the sound of shuffling feet was heard on the other side of the door. I hid behind Spot's legs.

"What brings you here at this time of night, Spot?" a girl's voice asked. Spot looked over his shoulder at me, and I slowly moved to where the girl could see me. She gasped, and smiled. She had dark brown hair and light brown eyes. She looked a little younger than Spot.

"This is Miracle." Spot said, introducing me to the new face.

"I'm Missy." The girl said. She grabbed my hand, and brought me into the room behind her.

There were three beds, a dresser, and a small window in the room. A redhead girl was sleeping in one bed, two girls with brown hair in another, and the third, I assumed, was Missy's. Missy pointed to the empty bed.

"You can sleep here tonight." She told me. I wasn't one for arguing, so I quickly hopped into bed, and Missy headed out of the room, mumbling something about an extra pillow. Spot had come in, and knelt beside the bed.

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked me. I nodded. He smiled, and kissed my forehead. " Goodnight then, Miracle." He said softly. I closed my eyes, and fell asleep.


	2. Star

**Chapter 2: Spot's POV**

I tucked Miracle in, and then walked back to my room down the hall. Once I was in there, I sat on the edge of my bed holding my head in my hands. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

I heard a soft knock on the door, and looked up. Missy peeked her head in.

"Whaddya want?" I snapped at her.

"Why'd you take her in?" she asked me. The words silenced me for a brief moment.

"She's a girl, and she needed help. Just like you."

"I had to beg for it, Spot. She was welcomed as if she was a millionaire." Missy had succeeded at silencing me again.

"You was the first girl newsie. Things were different." I said as I began walking towards the wash room.

"Flicker, Minute, and April had to beg too." I stopped in my tracks.

"Go to bed, Missy."

"No."

"NOW." I said, grabbing my cane. Missy took the message, and went towards the door. Before she left, she asked one more question.

"She's staying, ain't she?"

"You got that right." I smirked. She rolled her eyes, and left the room.

For the first time in a while, I cried my eyes out. Missy knew something was up, and she was right.

Miracle looked exactly like my little sister, Star. Star was the sister who was younger, but wiser. She was only two years younger than me though, unlike the five that separated me from Miracle. I thought that by taking Miracle in, I could fix my mistake, and make everything right. Even now, I know it's wrong, but I can't help it.

Three years ago, in December, all of the newsies had come back from a cold day of work in Manhattan. I wasn't the leader yet, at thirteen years old, but I was second in command to a boy named River. He was a tall, African boy, and the strongest I've ever known. Once we reached the lodging house, Star immediately began to look for something frantically. After a few minutes, she ran up to River and I, tears in her eyes.

"I left Madeline in Manhattan." She said, beginning to sob. Madeline was her favorite doll. River knelt next to her.

"Don't worry, we're selling there tomorrow. She'll be waiting for you right where you left her." He said. Star shook her head.

"She'll freeze out there!"

"And so will we if we go out there right now." I said, glancing out the window to see the snow beginning to fall.

"We're gonna get her now." She stated. River looked to me. I knew it was my problem now. He left to join the other newsies by the fireplace.

"Tomorrow, Star. She'll be fine." I said to her. She nodded, and walked to the fireplace with me.

For the next hour and a half, all of the newsies sat by the fire, chatting and laughing at the caricature-like people we saw on the streets every day. I wasn't worried about Star, and that was my biggest mistake.

I went to her room after our fireside chat to tuck her in. When I entered the room, I found an empty bed, with the window wide open.

The Brooklyn newsies and the Manhattan newsies teamed up to look for her. I really owe it to Racetrack, one of the Manhattan newsies. He had been selling with Star today, and retraced all of the places they had been. He found her lying in a pile of snow, shivering, and clutching Madeline. She was wearing only her thin knickers, her plaid shirt, and her cap. No shoes, no socks, no scarf, nothing. We carried her back to the Manhattan lodging house, but there was nothing we could do now. She was gone.

Out of all of the newsies, Racetrack and I felt the worst. I'm sure he's over it by now, but I know that I'm not. If I was, Miracle would never have been invited here in the first place.


End file.
